|By : FlameWolf666|
Category: WWF/WWE > Het - Male/Female
Views: 4697 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
|Disclaimer: I don’t know and have never met Undertaker, Sting, Hulk Hogan, Mankind, Shawn Michaels, Triple H, Vince Mc Mahon, Jim Ross, Paul Bearer, Kane or C.M. Punk. This is fiction, for fun and no profit will be made from it.|
Author’s Note: Ahem... Vince is a shit... That is all.
Chapter Twelve: A Very Public Confrontation
Laying in the bed next to Sting, she stared up at the ceiling as she wondered what to do now. After being gone all night, ‘Taker was likely frantic but she felt no rush to see him after what happened. Just thinking about the previous events still turned her stomach. Still, if she could go back she would likely do it again. This man was one of her true friends and someone she could have very well loved if not for her current boyfriend. Sitting up, she got dressed while the man on the bed stirred.
As she pulled on a shirt, there was frantic knocking on the door; making the pair jump. Frowning slightly, the Icon strode toward the closed entry; swinging it open to reveal C.M. Punk. “Sam’s missing and..,” he began to explain in a rush before he saw the woman he was talking about looking like a deer in the headlights. For several moments, he moved his gaze from one person to the other, rage clearly growing.
“That fucking son of a bitch...,” he spat before he was grabbing a baffled Samantha by the wrist and dragging her behind him.
“He just had to stick his nose into this,” the normally jovial male snarled under his breath as he continued to run forward, Sting close on their heels.
Once they got closer to the common room, he was stopping; facing them both with a concerned expression. “Undertaker has been worried sick. He’s...,” he began, only to be interrupted by a loud crash from the room behind him. Peering around him, the pair winced at the sight that greeted them. The Deadman currently had Hulk Hogan pinned down by his neck while Triple H, The Rock and Macho Man tried to pull him off.
“He’s already fought Kane and Mankind trying to find where you were,” he explained while the Phenom lifted his head to glare at the newcomers.
When he saw Sam, he dropped the other man; closing the distance in two, large steps. Just before he could take her in his arms, laughter came from down another hall. Dread filling her, Samantha turned her head to see none other than Vince McMahon striding toward them purposefully. “Excellent! This is all working much better than I thought! The audience will eat it up,” he cooed with a disgusting smirk, rubbing his hands together while the men gathered took on varying expressions of sheer hatred. It was at that moment comprehension came over Undertaker’s face.
Clenching his fists, he almost began to head toward the Big Boss before the other man held up an aged contract. “None of that now. You will be a good boy and listen to the new rules,” he taunted before placing it back into his jacket. Then his dark eyes were moving to the woman shooting daggers at him with her eyes.
“After all, we have a show to put on and if you care for your lover; you will do as I say,” he continued, his dark gaze dancing with a horrible inner glee.
Lifting her upper lip, she gave a single nod of compliance; her hands clenching hard enough to drive her nails into her palms. “Good girl. You will now be staying with Sting. You will be the cause of an explosive rivalry between the two. A fight to see who gets to keep you,” he commanded, his words sending a spear right through her heart. Yet, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying. Laughing maniacally, the slime of a man turned on his heel and left once more. The moment he was gone, Sam was sliding to her knees and letting out a ragged sob. All that had happened in the past few hours was finally hitting her.
She had participated in and been victim of a rape and now she was being forced to live away from the man her soul cried out for. It was all too much. “Fucking asshole... Treating us all like toys,” she hissed while hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly, two pairs of arms enveloped her and she found herself nestling into a familiar chest. No words were said, just two men she cared for trying to help soothe her.
“That’s what Vince does. Uses us. Only the obedient keep themselves,” growled a voice, drawing her attention to Triple H.
The man was kneeling in front of her, an expression of sympathy on his rugged features. “There is not much I can offer but my friendship. As much as such a thing is worth here,” he hissed before getting to his feet, turning and walking away. The others only stared after him, Punk raising a brow.
“Since the incident, he’s tried to keep everyone at arm’s length,” he whispered while ‘Taker helped her to her feet and steadied her.
His dark eyes bored into hers for several moments before they were moving up to focus on Sting. Grimacing, the painted fighter shifted but met the other man’s gaze. For a few tense moments, the Deadman seemed to be considering something. Then he was releasing her to take his urn out of his coat, handing it back to her. The moment it touched her hands, memories flashed through her mind. Visions of their past selves and the love they had once shared. Coming back to herself, she touched a phantom wetness on her cheeks before looking up at her soulmate.
He had forgiven her and still loved her. He still trusted her to watch his urn. Trusted her to live with another man. Heart aching with the love she felt, she stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cold lips. To her shock, her was wrapping his arms around her and lifting her; deepening the kiss hungrily. Then he was breaking it to rest his forehead against hers. “I will miss you,” he growled out, setting her down while switching his gaze to Sting yet again.
“Take care of her,” he bit out, his tone holding a deadly seriousness.
“With my life, as much as its worth,” the other man responded curtly, his jaw set in determination.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Week Passes~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the days, the incident had been cast all over the network. Everyone that followed the Undertaker now hated her more. They saw her as a traitor, something she couldn’t help but agree with. Especially given the fact she shared a bed with another man nightly. While the couch had been attempted for both of them, her nightmares made separation impossible. She would wake up with a shrill scream regularly. The only thing that seemed to help was his presence next to her.
The only thing that had made it worse had been the symptoms slowly showing up. It all started with a bit of tenderness in her breasts. Then the sickness had started and she felt her stomach drop. Especially when she missed her period. While it wasn’t confirmed, she was almost certain she was pregnant. The only problem was, she had no idea whose it was. Though, with ‘Taker likely being sterile due to being, well, dead; the evidence pointed to Sting. Something she was unsure if she really wanted.
As much as she had wanted children one day, she hadn’t wanted them like this. Still, she wasn’t in a position where she could leave and get an abortion. Let alone what vince would do when he saw she was pregnant. Just the thought made a shudder run through her. Exiting the bathroom, she looked up at the naked face of the man she had been living with. He was sitting on the couch with his head leaned back, eyes closed as he seemed to be deep in thought. Her first step was to tell both men and go from there.
Walking up to him cautiously, Sam found herself nibbling her lower lip despite the fact this man would never harm her. Licking dry lips, she swallowed thickly before placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. Opening a brown eye, he smiled slightly and patted the cushion beside him. “I’ve been having weird dreams lately. I can’t remember much. Just that I was someone old and powerful,” he whispered, brow furrowing slightly as he tried to recall more.
“But, what did you need? You look worried. Is it about the current situation?” he asked, switching his focus to her.
“I... uh... I’m... I might be... pregnant,” she managed to get out reluctantly, keeping her eyes locked on his.
What little color in his face was gone. Then he was up and pacing, somewhere between happy and fearful. “Christ, if its mine... We have to tell ‘Taker somehow but...,” he got out in a rush, trailing off with wide eyes.
“We have to be careful not to rouse the suspicion of Vince. If Kane or Paul Bearer saw us heading to his dungeon, the asshole in charge would no doubt hear about it,” she finished, not liking what the implication was.
Unless she could find some way to be near Undertaker without Vince noticing, she wouldn’t be able to tell him. With how little he left his room, she doubted it would ever happen. Scrubbing her face with her palms, she looked up at the man across from her. Her only hope was the rivalry Vince had been building about Sting and Undertaker. With her being sold as an unwilling captive of Sting’s, her being ringside with him would make sense. Maybe, just maybe she could snatch a moment long enough with her lover to inform him of her condition.
A knock on the door interrupted this train of thought and she looked at it with dread. Since the day she had been forced to live with another man, she was truly beginning to hate that sound. Opening it herself, she was greeted by Rock. Raising a brow behind his iconic shades, he looked over her head to motion to the fighter behind her. “You two are wanted. Vince wants to do a story set,” he commanded before simply leaving. Sighing, she closed the door with a sour expression.
So far, the story was that Sting had kidnapped her and was challenging Undertaker for her heart. For the past few bouts the phenom had been in, he had interrupted while she remained near the backstage area. There hadn’t been any serious matches thus far. Only a few cheap shots dictated by the Big Boss. Needless to say, she hated every bit of it. Still, this would be a perfect opportunity.
Once her companion had put his makeup on, they had left. Walking through winding halls, the pair made their way toward the set area. ‘Taker was already there, seeming almost a bit more haggard than normal. The moment he saw her, however, his face lit up with a small smile. Grinning back, she snuck in a wave before Vince was walking into the room. “You all know the drill by now so let's get this shot and over with,” he bit out, waving to the camera man. With a nod to me, Sting started things off by grabbing the other man, spinning him frantically and throwing him in her general direction.
Sidestepping slightly as he crashed into a wall behind her, Sam crouched near him in a show of concern, something she was sure Vince wouldn’t protest. Then she was leaning to whisper in his ear. “I’m pregnant,” she managed to get in before Sting was coming in to separate them to throw off suspicion. Then the two men were grappling, ‘Taker turning his head to give her a strange look. At that point, the other man threw him into a nearby van; denting the metal.
Grimacing in pain, the Phenom slid to his knees; glaring at the painted warrior. Bending, he gave the other man a near silent apology. Then he was kicking the downed wrestler in the gut. While he gagged, the disguised male forcefully led Sam back out. Behind them, Undertaker watched with a carefully schooled expression. The only sign of how he felt was the blood running from his clenched fists.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One Month Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking down the ramp to the ring, she felt oddly out of place. Since that night with Sting, she had never been allowed near the ring. Clenching the urn to her, she glanced up at the man already in the center of the ring. Black eyes bored into hers before oh so subtly moving to her stomach. Blushing, she took a seat and did her best to ignore the jeers of the incensed crowd. In their eyes, she was a villain. She had been using ‘Taker from the beginning and didn’t deserve him.
Much like the first time she had joined the Phenom at ringside, some of them even threw things at her. Activity that was rapidly stopped by glares from both men. Then the Icon was placing a kiss on her cheek before joining his long time rival. For a few moments, the pair gazed into each other’s eyes. Then the bell was ringing and they began to grapple. Moving to the ring, Sam held up the funerary object she had brought with her. This, of course, earned a glower from Vince. Even as the audience roared with approval.
Seeming to draw strength from it, the undead male grabbed Sting by the neck and choke slammed him into the turnbuckle. Lifting his upper lip he leaned in close to the wrestler’s greasepaint streaked face. That was when the container in her hands began to burn like white fire. Letting out a small cry, she sank to one knee like the last time; more memories of her past life getting dragged to the surface. She was vaguely aware of a call of her name before she simply blacked out.
Pain radiated from her cheek yet she still glared defiantly at the blurred male above her. “You... you dared to..,” he snarled out before lifting his hand to hit her again.
“Attack me as much as you like, but it will not change the fact I have given Charon a son. That his happiness is helping him pull free of your control,” she hissed venomously, feeling slightly vindicated when he reeled back as if struck.
Glaring at her, Hades struck like a snake; grabbing the insolent woman by her neck. “Do as you wish, wench but I will soon find a way to exorcise you from my realm. You won’t even be allowed here in death,” he promised before dropping her. Then he was leaving, shooting a glare at the ferryman that was just arriving. Just seeing her on the ground obviously filled him with rage. Yet, he helped her to her feet despite how much he obviously wanted to pursue the God.
“He has grown arrogant over the years...,” he whispered, a hint of concern in his tone as their son ran up to them.
“No, he has gotten bitter. His brother won’t let him leave this place to even see his own wife,” she corrected, just the tiniest hint of sympathy in her voice.
Charon only shook his head, escorting his family closer to Cerberus. The giant canid had become a valuable protector and he knew they would be safe with him. Wagging his snake tail, the three headed guardian lowered a head for the young boy to pet. “One day, he will go too far in his jealousy. I just hope we aren’t in his way when it happens,” the ferryman declared, a worried expression on his visage.
A pair of arms was holding her tight despite yelling in the background. “Get as pissed as you want, none of this is against your rules,” a male voice snarled while the grip around her intensified. That was when she became aware of a nose rubbing along her forehead.
“I don’t give two fucks! He’s breaking character! Ruining all the hard work I put in!” came another voice as her eyes fluttered slightly.
“So just make this work somehow. We all know you can do it if you want,” yet another man interjected as she forced heavy eyelids upward.
Looking around, she noticed Punk, Vince and Sting. Craning her head upward, she wasn’t surprised to see ‘Taker cradling her like she was a child. Letting out a small sigh, he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. Then he was slowly setting her on her feet, steadying her while she swayed in place. Glancing up at Vince, something lanced through her brain like a hot poker. An image of Hade overlaid on the man, merging to become the same person.
Letting out a pained noise, she held her head as Sting walked up with concern on his face. “What’s the deal with you and that urn?” he asked quietly, making sure no one else would hear.
“I... I’ll tell you later,” she promised, shaking her head to clear the image.
“I’m... tired,” she managed, turning to stumble back to the room she now shared with Sting.
He followed close behind her, worry on his painted features. Left behind with ‘Taker and Punk, Vince kicked a wall out of frustration. Then he was storming off to his office to figure out how to spin this. Alone with a man that hated him, C.M. ran a nervous hand through his short hair. “Your urn... Have you regained memories?” he asked under his breath. Meeting the other wrestler’s gaze, the Phenom gave a slow nod. Running a hand over his face, the nervous man stared up at the ceiling. Control was slowly slipping, only time would tell just what that would mean for all of them.
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